


Her Type

by annazonfox



Series: Lust [1]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Battlestar Galactica - Freeform, Cylons, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-03
Updated: 2010-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:09:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annazonfox/pseuds/annazonfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Earth, Kara Thrace goes on an enlightening journey with Admiral Helena Cain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Type

Kara wouldn't have pegged Cain to be a flowers-in-the-bath kind of woman.  Yet there they were, red petals floating atop the steaming water.

It was always interesting to see how those accustomed to outer space changed within the rich atmosphere of a habitable planet.  Maybe it was claustrophobia.  Constrained by gravity yet itching to explore, some people found that not all journeys required spacecraft.

And this journey had certainly been a revelation.

In the Cain's suite in LA, Kara shook her head, trying to focus on the circumstances.  Circumstances being that Captain Kara Thrace, thanks to Admiral Helena Cain, had recently experienced that wormholes to Earth were not merely theoretical.  Neither, apparently, was Earth.  And that was just the beginning.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Cain asked.  She was wearing a well-fitting suit. 

"Sir, it's just... what you're asking me to do..." Kara said, looking down. 

"You are referring to the civilian nature of the aircraft?" Cain asked. 

Cain could have been any athletic, brunette middle-aged woman. Until she moved.  Then, she was the Admiral, fearless and commanding.

"Yes. Sir."

Kara stole a glance at the bath and nervously wiped short blond strands of hair behind her ear.

"Captain, we have to go back.  Every passenger, civilian or not, on that plane tomorrow is supposed to be on the plane.  Your role is to fly that plane.  You can do that, correct?" 

"Yes sir.  Of course," Kara laughed.  Airplanes were child's play.  Always had been, always would be. 

"I thought so."

Kara smiled.

"Let me be clear.  It's not your job to understand what, where, or when the island is," Cain said. "It's to follow orders."

Kara looked down and stole another glance at the tub.  Candles, too.  Really?  Was Cain expecting someone later?

"Yes, of course."

"Now, if you will join me," Cain said, nodding toward Kara's gaze.

Kara's stomach flipped.

"Admiral...?" Kara swallowed.

But Cain was already at the tub with her back turned, taking off her jacket and unbuttoning her shirt.

"Kara," said the Admiral, turning around with her shirt unbuttoned, "You're a woman who knows how to get what she wants."

Within the shirt, Kara saw the curve of the Admiral's body. 

"So," the Admiral continued. "Come get what you want." 

It was an order and a statement of fact.

Without hesitation, Kara met Cain at the edge of the tub, clumsily pulling her own shirt off in the process.   

Hesitating, she raised her hands to the Admiral's shoulders as if to remove her shirt.

"Go on," Cain allowed.

Slowly, Kara slid the shirt off, letting it fall to the ground.  She then knelt, unbuttoning the Admiral's pants and sliding her body down with them, helping Cain step out of them.  On the way back up, she smiled, hesitating at the soft triangle of hair.

Cain placed her hand on Kara's head as it moved forward, stopping her.

"Slow down, Captain.  When you frak a woman, you take your time."

Kara made her way to her feet, whereupon the Admiral put a hand on Kara’s chest.

"This is your first time. With a woman. Correct?"

"No," Kara said.

Cain raised her eyebrows.

"Yes," Kara admitted, quietly.

Sure, there were some drunken make-outs in the barracks, but Kara never let it go further.  She would just end up frakking it up somehow.  Still, the desire remained.

"I thought so," Cain said, placing a lingering kiss on Kara's neck. 

Kara Thrace didn't do anything slowly.  She wanted to ravage this woman.  Sure, she'd never done it before, but she'd work out the details as she went along.  

Cain, though, was the perfect embodiment of discipline, slowly and tortuously kissing Kara's neck before making her way to her lips.

Kara took this as a cue to begin removing her own pants and, to her relief, Cain stepped away, letting her.  As Kara stepped out of her pants, Cain looked up approvingly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kara said.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are."

Kara was not used to being looked at in this way, as though she were feminine.

Cain stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Kara.

"You," she continued. "Are magnificent."

"Honestly, Admiral," Kara said, trying to keep her voice even.  "I didn't think I would be your type."

"What can I say.  I like blondes..."

Someone knocked at the door.  Both women turned.

"Enter," Cain commanded, stepping into the bath.

With her head down, a woman entered the room pushing a tray of champagne and fruit.

"Leave it by the bed," Cain ordered.  "Take 50 from the nightstand."

The woman took the money and turned, heading toward the door.  As she passed Kara, she looked up.  With long blond hair, she could have been Kara's twin.

Had this been the first time, Kara would have been startled.  Enraged.  But this Earth was teeming with Kara Thrace lookalikes.  Swallowing, Kara looked away.

"I have," Kara said, "Her memories."

"Get in," Cain said, from the water.  She reached for Kara's hand.

Kara looked away.

"You shouldn't get toasters near the water," she said.  "Isn't that what they used to say?"

"Don't be morbid," Cain said, pulling Kara into the water and kissing her again.

Moaning, Kara let her hands travel over the Admiral's firm body. 

"Besides," Cain said, whispering in Kara's ear, "You are nothing like those other.... things."  As she said this, a hand slid down Kara's body and expertly slid between her legs, teasing.

"Gods..." Kara said, closing her eyes.

Kara Thrace still felt like Kara Thrace.  Weightless, wasn’t it she, and no one else, in the water, feeling the Admiral’s wet skin next to her own, the sensations writing themselves on her body, this body.  Later, like a book, she would open it and own it.  Dried petals at her feet as proof.  It would be her memory.


End file.
